


To Reach This Day

by nightrose



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Jewish Comics Day, Jewish Steve Rogers, Judaism, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), M/M, Religious Conversion, mild sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7059874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightrose/pseuds/nightrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers converts to Judaism with the support of his fiancé Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Reach This Day

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Jewish Comics Day. I wrote it in a bit of a rush and it's not my favorite work of fic I've ever written, but at least it is 100000x more in character than anything where Steve Rogers becomes a Nazi. 
> 
> Also I was born Jewish so if any converts/Jews by choice have notes where I've been inaccurate please let me know if you feel comfortable doing so.

“Steve, you know you don’t have to do this for me,” Bucky says, for what is probably the hundredth time that afternoon alone. He shifts nervously in the padded folding chair, tugging a little at his tie. 

 

Steve just smiles at him. “I know. Isn’t that against the rules, or something?”

 

“No, I mean, I just don’t wanna push you.”

 

Steve leans in and kisses him gently on the cheek. “I’d say you’re being pretty relaxed about this whole thing. You haven’t even said whether or not you like the idea.”

 

“What? Of course I like the idea. I’m thrilled you’re even considering it, I just…I want you to know what you’re getting into.”

 

“After eighty years, I think I know your whole situation pretty well.” Steve takes Bucky’s hand gently, rubbing circles into Bucky’s palm with his thumb. He knows it won’t do any good to pry. Bucky will share what’s really on his mind when he’s ready to. After a few moments, Bucky finally looks up at him. 

 

“All right, I admit it. I feel bad! You’re doing this whole huge thing for me, on top of all the other huge things you’ve done for me, and I’m not exactly in a position to return the favor.”

 

“There’s only one favor I want in return,” Steve says, solemnly.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Well, it’s a different kind of huge thing…”

 

Bucky snorts, then gently whacks Steve on the arm. “You are in a house of _worship,_ you dirty-minded lech.”

 

“I’m in the offices sort of next to a house of worship. I hardly think it counts.”

 

They’re still laughing at that when the rabbi’s door creaks open. A kid, about twelve, rushes out carrying a pile of books. He freezes, completely still in front of them, for a solid few seconds to stare at Steve and Bucky.

 

“Hi, son,” Steve begins, about to offer to sign something if the boy would like, but the kid just pulls out his cell phone, snaps a picture, and then runs for the door. Steve and Bucky laugh a little—it’s hardly the weirdest encounter they’ve had. The attention around them is starting to die down a bit, now three years into their retirement, but they still both have plenty of fans. They’re used to it.

 

In his wake is a slim older woman with close-cropped white hair. She stands in the doorway to the office and nods at both of them. “Sorry about the wait. Joseph is going to become a bar mitzvah next week, and we had a lot to go over.”

 

Steve stands to shake her hand. “That’s quite all right, ma’am.”

 

“I’m Tali Firman, the rabbi here at Temple Keshet. Come on in, have a seat.”

 

Rabbi Firman’s office is a small, comfortable room, lined with many, many books. Steve was expecting something that looked less like a professor’s study and more like the confessionals of his youth, although he supposes it’s silly to make such assumptions. The chairs in Rabbi Firman’s office are just a little too small for two genetically enhanced super-soldiers, but they manage. 

 

“So. What can I help you with?”

 

“I’m Steve, and this is my fiancé, Bucky,” he says, just because he loves every chance he gets to say it. “We’re hoping to get married pretty soon. But we have a little bit of, um, an unconventional situation.”

 

“I think I’ve heard about some of that,” the rabbi says, looking across the desk at both of them. “But perhaps you’d better fill me in.”

 

“Here’s the two-minute version,” Bucky says. “We were both born right here in Brooklyn in the late 1920s. My folks were Polish Jews, Steve’s were Irish Catholics. We were best friends ever since we were kids, and more than that ever since we got old enough to, uh— to think about that kind of thing. He was real little and sick then—I know, just look at him now—so when the war started, I had to go and he had to stay.”

 

Steve takes over. “Then the war, the serum, I got taller, Bucky got lost, kidnapped, tortured, I crashed a plane into the ocean, froze in an icicle, woke up a couple years ago. He escaped from the secret Nazis, we found each other again, there was some confusion but now we’re retired. And engaged.” He takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I know it’s a long story.”

 

“I’m assuming those are the key highlights.”

 

“That brings us here today. I was hoping you could help us. Bucky and I want to have a Jewish wedding, and a Jewish life together. I’ve been thinking really seriously about converting, like I said over the phone when I called.”

 

“That’s right. And you said you’ve been looking into the process already?” Her tone is warm, but not effusive.

 

“Yeah. I understand it takes a lot of study, a lot of commitment. It’s not just ‘cause of Bucky, although I gotta be honest with you, a lot of what I do is.”

 

That gets a little smile from Bucky. 

 

Steve continues, “My parents weren’t Jewish. But it was very much a Jewish community that made me what I am today. I was always over at Bucky’s house, and I’d light candles with them, or come over for holidays, even as a kid. When my ma died, they practically adopted me. And who I am now, I mean, all this, is because Dr. Erskine saw that in me. The same values he wanted reflected in the world.”

 

“You know you can live life by Jewish values without becoming Jewish?”

 

“I know. It’s just really important to me to be completely a part of this community, and for Bucky and I to have a Jewish life together.”

 

“Have you considered why, specifically, that’s true?” Her tone remains curious and inviting. Steve had expected this to be a lot scarier, and he’s prepared to answer these questions, even though they aren’t easy ones.

 

“Yes. Um, when you’ve been through as much of a change as I have—I mean, I went to sleep one day in 1945 and woke up seventy years later—you start to see the value in tradition. In something that stays the same. Even if all the people are gone, and obviously, y’know, the folks from around here that Bucky and I knew are all passed or very old, there’s still that continuity. That means a lot, if you’ve seen as much change as I have. An awful lot.”

 

“And why Judaism? Just because your partner is Jewish?”

 

“Well, like I said, the community has meant a lot to me throughout my life. Bucky and I keep kosher at home, and the holidays, and those traditions are really, I don’t know if comforting is the right word. Meaningful. And like I said, I find Jewish values are really close to my own. Healing the world—that’s what I’ve tried to do, all my life. Some people would say I’ve done more harm than good, but I hope that’s not true. Even if it is, if I know someone is in danger and I do nothing, I feel responsible.”

 

“That’s a good answer.”

 

Steve smiles at her. “I’d hope so. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.”

 

“And you’re very sure of your decision?”

 

“As sure as I have been about anything.”

 

“You understand that once it’s done—once you’ve converted—there’s no going back? Just like someone who’s been born Jewish, you’ll be Jewish for the rest of your life.”

 

“That’s exactly what I want.”

 

Rabbi Firman nods. “It seems like you’ve put a lot of thought into this, over a lot of years. Should we discuss a timeline?”

 

“That’s it? I thought I had to ask three times and everything.”

 

She shrugs. “You can if you’d like to. We usually have a less formal process here—if you’ve made the choice that you want to have a Jewish life, and if I feel sure that you know what that entails, then we can go ahead with the process. If you’d like a more traditional conversion process, if it being more intensive would feel significant to you, than I can refer you to a colleague at an open orthodox community in Manhattan—“

 

“No, no, I was just surprised!” Steve assures her. “I want to go ahead with things here.”

 

“Then we can start talking about a timeline, and what the process entails.”

 

“All right.”

 

“Now, you probably already know this, but unlike a lot of religions, Judaism doesn’t seek converts—or make it particularly easy for you to become one. But once it’s done, it’s done, and it’ll be just the same as if you were born into the faith.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Were you hoping to complete the whole process before your wedding?”

 

“Ideally. We don’t have a date for the wedding set yet, we were waiting to learn more about this.”

 

“It can be a long process, even up to a year.”

 

Steve nods. “I know. I’m ready to get started.” 

 

______________

 

Steve is surprised at himself that he’s decided to have an Anshe Mitzvah. Initially he’d thought of this process as something unfortunate but necessary. He wanted to be Jewish, and he wanted to marry Bucky, but planning a conversion and a weddingand studying for an adult Bar Mitzvah seemed like a lot of work to get to his end goal. However, the more time he spent with Rabbi Firman talking about opportunities for Jewish learning, the more fulfilling he found it. 

 

Since what happened in Siberia, Steve has had an awful lot of time on his hands. He and Bucky had taken a semi-forced retirement in exchange for amnesty, and now live, as much as possible, as private citizens. At first, they’d both been busy with Bucky’s recovery, but now that he’s doing well, it doesn’t make sense to spend all their time dwelling on the past. Steve does what he can for the world around him still, but it’s a lot harder now that he can’t actually fight (except in specific, UN-approved emergencies). 

 

He wouldn’t have thought that throwing himself into the conversion process would help so much, but it has. A lot of the questions that lingered—a lot of the doubt that has been tormenting him ever since he threw down his shield—have been answered. 

 

It’s also an incredible amount of work. One night, as he’s practicing his parasha, he remarks to Bucky, “I can’t believe you did all this when you were only thirteen!”

 

Bucky just laughs at him. “I didn’t take it half as seriously as you do.”

 

But nonetheless, Bucky sits down with him and listens to him practice the reading, correcting his pronunciation whenever it’s obviously wrong. He asks to hear Steve’s speech as well, but Steve laughs it off. “You’ll hear it at the service.”

 

“I don’t want to wait until the service.” He gives Steve a sad look, with those big eyes that Steve can almost never resist. “What, are you gonna talk about me?”

 

“Maybe.” Steve kisses the top of Bucky’s head and returns to his preparations.

 

They aren’t going to have a big party—Steve isn’t a kid, and it would be painful anyway, thinking of all the people who aren’t there. Instead, he’s going to go through the mikvah and be circumcised on Friday morning, and then read from the Torah and speak at the service the next day. Rabbi Firman also suggested this plan to help them keep a low profile, which he really appreciates. Although they haven’t been as much in the center of attention as they used to be, it’s still a very private moment, and Steve isn’t eager to have it publicized all over the world. 

 

Instead, it’s going to just be the congregants who happen to show up, and a few friends that Bucky and Steve have invited. 

 

Their wedding is going to be a big, public affair—it feels like there’s basically no way around that—so they want this to be as private, and as meaningful, as possible.

 

Steve rereads everything—his parasha, his notes for the speech, the whole service—one last time. He’s already taken the test Rabbi Firman sets for converts, and appeared before the Beit Din, which all in all wasn’t nearly as scary as he thought it was going to be. 

 

After a solid eighteen months of study, he’d been able to answer every question on the test correctly, and his conversation with the Beit Din had been more like talking than an interrogation. He’d passed both.

 

Now all that remains is the ceremony and ritual. When the day is over, he’ll be fully a part of the community he’s spent the last year immersing himself in. 

 

“I’ll see you at the synagogue,” he tells Bucky.

 

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”  


“I have to go by myself, I think. I’m going to be all right.”

 

“If you’re sure.” Bucky smiles at him. “I love you so much. You know that, right?”

 

“Of course. I love you too.”

 

“Hey Steve?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“How much time do you have before you absolutely have to leave?”

 

“Um, I wanted to be early, but I guess I could push it about forty minutes, why?”

 

“Well, you’re about to get ritually pure, right?”

 

“That’s the idea.”

 

“I was thinking we could get dirty first.”

 

Steve groans. “That was terrible, honey.”

 

“And besides, there’s a certain part of your anatomy of which I am very fond, and which is about to undergo a small makeover. I really think I should get this chance to say goodbye.”

 

Steve pulls him in for a long kiss. “If you insist.”

 

———

 

He tries not to look around at the rest of the congregation. His voice is shaky as he finishes the words of his parasha. 

 

“Yesher koach,” Rabbi Firman whispers in his ear as he finishes, and his voice is stronger as he manages the blessing after the reading.

 

The Torah is dressed and put away. It’s time for his speech. He clears his throat and stands at the pulpit. He looks at Bucky’s smiling face, not at the rest of the watching crowd, or he’ll get too nervous.

 

“Shabbat shalom, everyone. I know it’s traditional for the sermon to be a few words about the content of the reading, but I’m going to do something a little bit different. As some of you know, I’m joining this community as a Jew for the first time tonight. I wanted to talk a little bit about that, and most of all to thank you all. Most of you I’ve had the chance to meet over the course of the last year or so, and all of you have done a great deal to make this community one that has welcomed me. As an interfaith, queer-friendly synagogue, maybe that seems obvious, but I’m used to standing out anywhere I go, not being welcomed in. So thank you for that.

 

I’m going to talk tonight about something that has troubled me a lot in my conversion process. That is, the idea that once someone has converted, it’s as though they were born Jewish, and it’s a sin to remind them of their conversion—because it’s a sin to remind another of their past wrongdoing. At first, this was a really comforting idea. Like I said, I stick out everywhere I go, and I was looking forward to fitting in, and I wasn’t really looking for yet another reason to be different. But as time went on, and I thought more about it, that started to really trouble me.

 

First of all, I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m a convert, and it always will be. Most people know who I am, and that means the fact that I was born Irish Catholic is a Google search away. Steven Grant Rogers isn’t exactly a popular Jewish name. I’ll always be almost seven feet tall, and blond, and that means I’m always going to raise some eyebrows. So why not talk about it?

 

And more importantly, the comparison troubled me. I don’t think of being born non-Jewish as a sin. Anything but. I didn’t choose my birth religion, but I did chose to be Jewish. It wasn’t a mistake for me to be Catholic when I was, and it’s not a mistake for me to become Jewish now. 

 

But of course, I’ve just accepted all the obligations of Jewish life, and one of those obligations is to reconcile myself to the law. Even if the law makes me uncomfortable, I need to find a way to make it make sense to me. 

 

I’ve thought a lot about this doctrine. And I’ve realized that there are a lot of ways to look at it. Just because I see my conversion as a natural process, as something that gives me comfort, that doesn’t mean everyone does. I’ve always lived my life according to the principles that I’m formally adopting today, but not every convert feels that way. And just because I don’t like a notion, doesn’t mean it has no value for anyone. 

 

So—although I don’t think of my life before I was Jewish as a sinful time, although I don’t feel any shame about being a convert, and although I’d be happy to talk about it with anyone who wants to—I now realize the value of the law. Conversion isn’t an easy or a simple process. At the end of it, I feel just as much a part of this community as anyone else. In some ways I’ll always be visibly different—but, as I realized in considering this idea, we all are. Every member of the Jewish faith brings their own experiences into this space, and every different birth religion, ethnic affiliation, racial identity, sexual orientation, gender, opinion, idea, imagination, and thought enriches us all.

 

As the Torah teaches us, he who saves one human life has saved an entire world. Every member of this community, and of our people, and of all the peoples of the world, is a precious world in and of themselves. The experiences that have brought me here are a part of my identity, and I hope they will be able to enrich the faith that has brought me so much. 

 

Thank you to each and every one of you for welcoming me into the community. Thank you especially to Rabbi Firman, without whose inspired and intelligent leadership I might never have completed this process. Thank you to my friends who have come her to support me today. And most of all, thank you to my beloved fiancé, Bucky Barnes, who has been with me from the very beginning.”

 

Steve finally looks up, and sees the smiling faces of the many congregants. Although no one claps, since they’re in the sanctuary, as he takes his seat, he can feel the warmth coming from the congregation. He sits down next to Bucky, taking his hand, and several people whisper congratulations before they are directed by the rabbi to rise.

 

“In honor of Steve’s conversion, and of those very thoughtful words, let us say the shechechianu together, to celebrate this joyous occasion.”

 

Steve squeezes Bucky’s fingers and closes his eyes, praying with all his heart. As he recites the Hebrew words along with the rest of his congregation, he thinks, “Thank You, thank You, that have brought me through so much and allowed me, at last, to see this day.”


End file.
